My Companion Oxygen
by Verboten Byacolate
Summary: Velma loves her friends and their reactions. She loves their dog. But most of all, she loves the wind. "Let's let her sleep, Freddy."


_Disclaimer;_ Not mine!

**My Companion Oxygen**

Among the group, it was a forgotten fact that Velma was the first to call him "Freddy." It was a test; she just wanted to know his reaction. Velma loved reactions, especially those of her friends. But mostly when she incited them. She enjoyed the satisfaction earned with a surprised face, a laugh, a gasp, a jump. She loved their faces bacause she loved them.

But she didn't like it when Daphne got all the smiles. Just because she was attractive. Just because she could knock a guy off his feet with a few well-placed words or actions or movements of those darned hips.

Velma loved Daphne, of course; she was the only girl-- the only other female presence. But it wasn't always a good thing. It wasn't often different at all. When Velma felt like talking, Daphne wanted sleep. When Daphne felt like talking, the only discussion was of shoes and makeup and leggings and "Freddy" and things that, frankly, Velma didn't want to talk about. Scooby made a better conversationist, but he preferred Shaggy (and vice versa). Velma didn't know how to approach any topic but a mystery with Fred, and when she thought of something, he would be with Daphne. Or talk about her. Or his mind would be filled with the redhead.

Sometimes Velma was lonely.

She brushed down her maroon skirt and pulled out the sleeves of her sweater-- the night was cold, and she was keeping watch on a cold dusty bench in some abandoned barn or other. The wind rattled the windows that looked molded over with something grayish green. There wasn't even a ghost to keep her company-- what spirit would want to sit around a place like this, fake or real? Velma held back a sigh, pulling up her knees and resting her chin.

"If anyone's there," she called, "you might as well come out while I'm awake. Otherwise, I'm going to sleep."

Silence. A creaky swing outside gave a sway in the wind, and then more silence.

Velma closed her eyes.

"You know what, ghost? I love my friends."

When she listened, without seeing the world, all the noises around her- the wind, the swing, the scuttling of tiny creatures, the waves of grass brushing against the concrete- made it a lot less lonely. Without hesitance, she took off her glasses and set them beside her on the bench and relaxed once more. The wind whistled a small, melody-less tune, and she breathed with it. It probably looked stupid, and if the others had seen her try to keep time with the wind, they might laugh, but right now it didn't matter.

"I love them even if they don't talk to me."

_I'd love them even if they didn't care._

Right now, it was Velma and the air around this stale concrete barn.

She felt herself drift between sleep and consciousness, the wind pushing her back and forth like the swing outside. She should keep watch-- no one would care if she didn't. She would wake up if anything came by; she was in tune with her surroundings-- but they might get mad. As it was, she disliked the solace. If they were angry at her for not keeping watch...

_Even if they didn't care..._

"Velma?"

Swing.

"She's sleeping."

Wind.

"Let's let her sleep."

Harmony? Did the two keep better rhythm than she'd suspected?

"Hey, Shaggy, carry her to the van."

Pretty voice, but nothing like the wind. Her half-conscious mind registered that it was not the wind. Daphne.

"He's too skinny. I'll take her."

Fred?

"That's, like, totally uncool, Freddy! I'm way stronger than I look, right, Scoob?"

An agreeing noise from their canine companion, and Velma was awake. Her eyes remained closed.

"See, I'll show you." Two sticklike, warm things slid under her bent knees and behind her back, tugging her off the bench. Their owner grunted.

"Don't forget these!" came Fred's voice, and Velma heard plastic being scraped across the concrete bench. Muffled words that could have said "got them" from Scooby told her that the dog had taken her glasses.

"Hey... she looks kinda pale. It's cold, isn't it?"

"We'd better huddle together for warmth, guys."

Across the small lawn, they crammed into their van. Velma was surprised; they were doing this together. All together. Her back was pressed to Shaggy's chest; her legs were draped over Scooby's back; Daphne gripped her right hand; and Fred's blond locks brushed her left shoulder. Together.

The wind rattled around the Mystery Machine. The wind-- her friend.

_I still love them._


End file.
